Blood And Fire

Chapter 67-Tea With Malthor

CHAPTER 67

     "Ah!  Lyra!  Come in, Come in!" Malthor invites as he notices the red-headed rider of the queen standing in the doorway to his office.

     "Sorry, Skyhalla and I took a little longer than I realized," Lyra apologizes.

     Malthor waves off Lyra's apology and shakes his head.  "Don't even think anything of it, Lyra," Malthor begins.  "You both have a lot on your minds, I'm sure."  He motions for Lyra to have a seat as he busies himself at the stove putting the kettle on for tea.  "I know how frustrated you both must feel, Lyra.  Not being able to fight alongside with Highland's forces and your mate, of course."

     Lyra goes to pull the chair out and notices the chunk missing from the backrest.  "What happened here?" she inquires, running her finger over the indentations in the wood.  She looks up from the chair in time to see Malthor's guilty expression instantly dissolve into an embarrassed grin.

     "Ah, that," Malthor begins with his explanation.  He turns away from Lyra and continues with his preparations for the tea.  He brings down two mugs from the cupboard and places them on the counter.  "I guess I was a little upset after Richard let me have it back at the dining hall earlier."  Malthor continues working on the tea, now grabbing a pinch of tea leaves from a canister on the counter.  He distributes them evenly between the two mugs.

     Remembering the Dragonman from the south's earlier outburst regarding Malthor's decision to allow her and Skyhalla to leave the safety of Highland Den, Lyra once again examines the damage done to the solid wood chair and comments, "Wow!  He must've really gotten under your skin, huh?"

     Malthor glances over his shoulder at Lyra and replies, "It was nothing I hadn't already beaten myself up over about a hundred times, you know."  He laughs and then says, "Leave it to Richard to rub salt in the wound, eh?"  Malthor grabs a jar of honey and applies a dollop to each of the mugs.  He looks back at Lyra who is still examining the injured seat.  Nervously, Malthor removes a small vial from his coat pocket and fumbles with the twist off cap.  He taps two shakes of a white powdery substance from the vial into one of the mugs, then replaces the cap of the vial and returns it to his coat pocket.

     Steam begins to billow from the tea kettle and the accompanied whistling soon follows.  Malthor removes the kettle from the stovetop and pours the scalding water into each of the cups.  He places the kettle on the counter and then grabs the handles of each mug, making sure to keep in mind which is which.  He turns to face Lyra and smiles warmly.  "Here you go, my dear," Malthor offers.

     Lyra smiles in return and accepts the steaming mug with both hands.  "Thank you Malthor," she replies.  She sets it down on the table before her and seats herself in the chair.

     Malthor sets his mug down on the table in the setting opposite Lyra.  He pulls the other chair out and sits.  He stirs his tea and then taps the spoon against the rim of the mug – placing it on a napkin on the table.

     Steam rises steadily from both mugs and both Lyra and Malthor clasp their hands around the curving ceramic surfaces for warmth.

     Malthor sips from his mug first and then inquires expectantly, "Your tea okay, Lyra?"  His expression is one of eager anticipation.

     A voice rings out in Lyra's mind.

     Lyra!  You are in grave danger!

     A shocked expression shows on Lyra's face as she receives the telepathic message from her dragon.  She looks at Malthor in alarm.